Note that all Sonic and Harry Potter characters are eleven in this story. All characters belong to J.K Rowling and Sega. I own none of the characters .

Nothing different happens until part six, so I will try to summarize the parts. And I don't trust myself so I apologize if this is horrible.

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of Number Four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. Mr. Dursley made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache.

Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had twice

the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time spying on the

neighbours. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

Mrs Dursley had a sister called Lily Potter. She

and her husband James Potter had a son called

Harry Potter. They lived far from the Dursleys and

did not speak to them much. They did not get

along.

One day, a man appeared outside of

the Dursleys house. He was tall, thin, and very

old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and highheeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

He looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him.

He chuckled and muttered, "I should have

known." He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a

little pop. He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement.

Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair

was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."